The Fire in His Eyes [MxM]

Prologue

Prologue

Ayitora is a land of magnificence and danger.

The water runs as blue and clean as the finest refined sapphire upon a high lady's finger. The grass as lush and green as an untouched meadow deep within a secluded valley.

The water is filled with an abundance of life that flourishes in the underwater domain.

Mushrooms grow as tall as the trees and dot the landscape with colors of lavender and aqua. The sun and moon act as a perfect balance from the warm bath days to the nights lit with fireflies underneath a perfect white glow.

Ayitora is filled with a plethora of creatures of all shapes and sizes. From the tricky Nixeds to the gentle giants of The Wandering Vale that rival the castles of civilization.

The structures that are inhabited by the elves look as if they have always been apart of the land. Buildings carved from stone or tree houses that have naturally grown over centuries.

The land was created with all it's creatures in mind and the circle of life remains within perfect balance.

However...

Not all of Ayitora is created equal. The providence of Krudour only inhabits the land's most deadly and ruggish creatures. Only those with the strength and willpower to survive even have a chance at making it in these harsh lands.

Nothing can grow in Krudour, leaving the land desilate and empty. It's said that those who are exiled or lost go mad from wandering around what feels like circles, constantly staring at the same picture. Those who are rescued are often empty husks of what they used to be and those who aren't don't live long enough to explain the horrors they faced. They would die either from self affliction or a tragic accident.

No one in their right mind would willingly travers this harsh land of oblivion.

Until today...

______________________________

Prince Kelsen Jonorin of Zitaica, the largest landmass in all of Ayitora sits atop the throne in which he will one day rule from. Today it is a place of debate and frustration as his parents Queen Chamylla and King Ehlark huff about their stubborn lard of a son.

"I just do not see why Lady Verrona cannot come here. It's not as if it's particularly far from Zitacia." Prince Kelsen has his cheek resting against his knuckles. His eyes straying from anywhere except his fumming father.

"It's traditon! You think it proper for a lady to travel to meet her good-for-nothing future groom!" The prince's father was a very tall man with broad features. His hair though long enough to almost grace the floor was always meticulously braided and draped over his shoulder, giving sign to his age. His face is very narrow and pointed, much like his ears that always peek through his hair, and those just like his robes were covered in precious gems, pierced all the way up. His eyes were almost pitch black, a striking contrast to the prince's emeralds, much like his mother's who is remaining very silent during this exchange.

Prince Kelsen stands up and walks down the couple steps from the throne in order to look his father in the eye. "Why can I not find a bride within our own kingdom? Surely the good relationship you have with the Baron of Weserin is not faded to the point of marriage?" Kelsen huffed this, knowing full well that he was high enough status to marry a princess, rather than the daughter of a Baron.

Zitaica is made up of many towns in which the king's closest friends rule over as barons. However, Baron Zelphar has been giving the king an earful about the crimes going on under his rule. Weserin had become dangerous and Kelsen knows that this is his father's attempt to merge the land in with the capital.

King Ehlark does his best to remain his composure but his normally perfect pale skin is starting to tint pink. "Kelsen Jonorin. You are going to visit the lady and propose to her or so help me, you will not have a bottom to sit on my throne." Kelsen crosses his arms and stares up at the much older elf. "I am of age father. I am a man and you will not threaten me like a child."

"I will treat you like a man when you stop acting like a boy." His father quips back. His left eyebrows starts to tick as the males enter a staring match.

Just before electricity can start popping from all the tention, the gentle sound of a throat clearing breaks it.

"Kelsen, your father needs to look after the kingdom. Just as you will one day." Queen Chamylla finally chips in.

The queen is a beautiful woman, the king was known to be one of the luckiest to get a wife of brains as well as beauty. The queen's hair is still vibrantly golden, while Kelsen and his father's are as pure white as a fresh snowfall. Her growns were made specifically for her and she always wears the ring her husband first put on her finger 200 years ago when they married. Her eyes look as if they were duplicated onto her son's, as well as her ears which were rather smaller than the king's.

The king looks as if he's about to add something, when the queen gently raises her hand to stop him. "As you said, it is not far. You could be there and back within a week." Her voice remaining gentle as if she were singing a lullaby to a baby rather than reasoning with her grown son.

Kelsen opens his mouth to continue the argument when his father raises his hand this time.

"It's decided Kelsen. You leave first thing in the morning."